You guys. These are the kind of the things that happen when you are planning a trip to New Orleans, the place where your heart lives. You log on to Airbnb to try and find a dreamy little hideaway for you and your love to rest your heads. Hopefully it has a brick courtyard, and is a shotgun. Maybe there is some bougainvillea and big, huge banana ferns shading the windows. And you scroll through many many pages of dreary burgundy rooms, some of them in Kenner, which why would you ever want to stay in KENNER?, most of them too impossibly ugly to ever even want to imagine your vacation in. And then you stumble upon the one cute place for rent in the entire city of New Orleans and you click on it and are greeted by the face of an old friend who, of course, owns it and you send him a message saying 'hello!' and then by the time you have finished your chat and your coffee you have the perfect house to stay in. That's what happens when you decide to go home after too many years spent away, on an entirely different coast, living an entirely different life.
The visit from my dear friend sent me catapulting towards the city that I love. We are, fingers crossed and work schedules allowing, going to spend one week walking the streets and eating and drinking and dancing to cajun music in October. There are bayou excursions planned and birthday dinners in the works and new babies that are actually not so new anymore to see. It has now been almost 4 years since I have been back and Justin has never been. I can't wait to share with him my favorite little corner of the world.
I've also been reading Stealing Magnolias, which has become my favorite way to fall asleep at night. I pick it up from my nightstand like it is a wee treasure. I read a chapter and then lay my head down, visions of Mardi Gras beads, wrought iron balconies and hot summer nights setting my mind at ease. It's magic, this book. A love letter to New Orleans. It has become one of my biggest dreams to own a home there one day. It's on my bucket list and I have to say, the older I get, the more I realize that if you want things to happen, you have to make them happen. And I wouldn't mind working real hard to make a house like this happen. Despite the fact that isn't my usual mix up, it is literally the perfect home for New Orleans and exactly the kind of place I would love to live in there.
PS. How was everyone's weekend? Mine was productive and not thrilling in the least but I finished up so much work that needed to get done I'm ok with it. That being said-it's Monday and I already can't wait until Friday. So. There's that.